


learning how to use a weapon (& other such tragedies)

by thnderchld



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thnderchld/pseuds/thnderchld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been four years since the world and all its continents was consumed by a massive flood. At the heart of it we find 15-year-old Jet and his Freedom Fighters, a crew of pirate teenagers with too little and too much to lose. Jet grows up on the seas with an ache in his chest and a secret on his shoulders that gets better or worse depending on the day and subject of conversation.</p><p>Time goes on, and he learns how to navigate the fields of loss, love, and other such heartaches. He learns how to cope with it. And at the centre of it all is his son, waiting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is for @angryjerkandstrawboy for managing to put up w me babbling on about this for hours and hours as i went through all its multiple lives and forms. it came from a really weird idea and then just…didn’t really stop?

 

>  

_The_  water was creeping higher and higher; it was up to Jet’s waist now, and he was taller than most boys his age. He grabbed one of the biggest ships there were, and then he closed his eyes and pictured his father’s face.

-

 _As_  two years went by the water swallowed up the towns and Jet let himself drift between the colonies and their rooftops. He became acquainted with architecture from the outer view. He didn’t know what the forms were called but he knew they were a type of beauty he had never seen before.

Beneath him, a fish became godlike and sailed above the windows as if in flight, slipped its scales above the water so that the light became brightly silver upon its back. Jet thrust down a makeshift spear from driftwood and pulled it onto the ship. He watched as the fish twitched and flexed, flopping around on the deck as it died.

“Hey, you gonna eat all of that?” Jet looked up in surprise and saw two young people in a boat. They looked about one or two years younger, and they were sitting in a boat too small for either of them.

Jet grinned and let down a rope ladder.

They stayed.

-

The sun was hotter nowadays, without the trees to cloak his already dark skin but he had managed to weave a lousy hat with help of Longshot. The sea had stopped rising, at least. Jet found a type of solace in seeing the roofs, seeing the small echoes of what people had left behind.

Jet saw other people sometimes, but rarely; silhouettes of small ships or boats, who fled from the massiveness of his ship. They didn’t know that inside there was a twelve-year-old, whose arms were too long and his feet too big. Maybe other people just caught whiffs of the type of person he was  _inside his body_.

But when he came into actual contact, they tended to stay for a while. Smellerbee and Longshot had never left, they helped to fish and keep the ship clean. Longshot kept crow’s nest a lot of the time- they were good with a bow and arrow.

 

After a while, another pair slinked into their lives, a boy who knew the winds and a girl who could slip water between her fingers as if it were thread. “I wonder,” she said one night, “If I could have stopped any of this, if I’d known before.”

Jet, who was learning to cook, paused. “How?” he whispered, and his voice was quiet.

“I don’t know, maybe I could’ve kept the water down.”

Jet turned to her and his eyes were a rare form of melancholy, one that came out on simple occasions that none ever saw. He felt like the stories his mother had once told him. “Don’t become Atlas,” he said, “don’t hold up the world.”

-

Then came a small, fat child who was equally worth his weight in gold. He was happy and got on well with Smellerbee via bets. He had been rich once, he said, but no one was sure how much they believed him. Not that it mattered, of course. No one was rich anymore.

Sometimes Jet heard rumours, rumours of a far off land, a land of heat and a land high above the clouds. Sometimes embers itched under his own skin and he almost released it, whatever it was, but they just stayed there, too stubborn to leave his skin. And he didn’t want his family to leave. So he didn’t tell anyone, when he heard, because he didn’t want them to be too brave.

-

The last was a man older than Jet, with the youngest in tow, a boy of only seven. The man’s name was Pipsqueak and he was accompanied by  _the_  Duke, unless it was Pipsqueak or Jet, in which case they just called him Duke. He always followed Jet around, watching with itching eagerness for the twist of Jet’s fingers on the wheel. He had become Jet’s shadow, almost, following his footsteps wherever he went.

Even though Pipsqueak was his blood relation, the Duke had seemed to name Jet as a father type, even though Jet was still young, and obviously young. But there was a new type of aging that went on inside him, one that was only visible in his eyes when the moon was hidden.

 

The Duke was being tucked in by Jet one day, beneath covers as thin as summer rain, when he muttered, “I heard, once, that the sun was going to gobble up the earth. Is that true?”

Jet paused and dipped his head, letting his eyelids flutter closed. He sighed, swallowing the weight of the world. “One day,” Jet whispered, and let his hand pass over the Duke’s forehead. “But not soon.”

“You’re not fibbing?” the Duke asked, frowning. “I don’t like when people fib to me. I heard that the waters would rise and then the sun would eat all of us up. My brother told me.” Jet tried to ignore the knowledge that those people were dead, but he couldn’t help the brief stab of pain.

“If I were fibbing I’d say that it was never happening. But we’ll be dead before the earth. The water will be gone by then. And the trees. Nothing will be on earth by the time it finally dies.”

The Duke nodded. “How long?”

“Trillions and trillions of years.”

 

When the Duke finally fell asleep Jet got to his feet and left the young boy in the dark. He made his way over to the edge of this ship, and before him the darkness was thick and black. He could see the moon outlining some roofs that rose above the water like mountains outlined by moonlight.

The stars were bright as lanterns and for a moment Jet wanted to follow them. Sucking in a breath, Jet pulled himself up to the crow’s nest. Jet slipped a gentle hand beneath his shirt and felt for the ribs that stabbed through from beneath his skin. Once upon a time he had been fed and full. A lifetime ago.

Jet stared at the waters and felt something cold squeezing around his heart, like a fist squeezing orange juice into a jug.

“Hey.” He looked behind and saw the silhouette of Smellerbee. Her voice was like a faraway land upon the wind, small and this close to drifting out of Jet’s existence.

“Hey,” he said back, making sure the smile showed in his voice.

“Are you  _ever_  scared?” Smellerbee asked, wrapping her spindly arms around her spindly legs. She leaned into Jet’s side and he laughed.

“No,” he chided, “I’m not scared of anything.”

“I call bullshit.”

Jet pulled a splinter of wood and started to chew it. “This was my father’s ship, a long time ago.”

Smellerbee made a noise. “What was he like?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.” Jet had distant memories of a warm hand, a rifle, a voice like thunder ripping through the air. But he was a brief thought in Jet’s mind, and one he forgot whenever he could.

Smellerbee snuggled closer. She got like this when it was dark. “I never met my dad. I can remember my mother, though. She was really pretty.”

Jet nodded. There was no misery worth expending in this universe as whoever you talked to always had something worse, something bigger. But it also meant you weren’t alone.

Sometimes Jet felt dwarfed by the misery of the world he’d created.

-

There was an empire out on the sprawling seas, and it was a big one. It was a nation, and it sent out large metal bulks ten times the size of Jet’s already massive ship. They had yet to bother Jet but he heard whispers of theft and murder among their lines. Jet was always lucky enough to be able to hide behind a roof when he happened to see them on the horizon.

But it stung Jet, the injustice of it all. He remembered something from his youth, a small snippet of fists and blood and lost teeth on concrete. When he thought of it, he could hear words in a voice that was vaguely familiar,  _‘you are such a dark person, my son. I will protect you as much as I can, but I know I can’t do much, not anymore.’_

Jet felt this dark thing in his chest and when he felt it it drowned out the world. It was a scary thing, something that reared its head whenever his siblings mentioned _land_ or leaving. He’d always leave the conversation and then be struck with the realisation that his fists were closed.

So gently, Jet began to draw his plans against the men who were worse than him. He would fight fire with fire and the world would not drown.

-

The day he first made an attack was the day he woke up and realised he was fifteen. On the inside of a barrel, he had been counting down the days, but not for him. For the Duke. He remembered hearing about how much children loved their birthdays and even though Jet was old he remembered what youth was.

It had been three years since the accident.

That day, Jet pushed away sickness as he pushed his way into the stomach of a small empire ship. He was alone, save for Wang-Li. She grabbed hold of the water in the pipes and then  _burst_  it.

The soldiers came tumbling in like rain and Jet was on his feet, away, and when the soldiers turned around he was gone.

And so was the ship.

-

Jet suppressed his darkness through distracting himself with even darker things. He fought the tyrannical badness with being badder. To stop being a monster he became one.

The Empire lost a dozen ships in the span of a month. He was a wanted man on the lips- they were a wanted group. So they needed a name.

Jet pulled Naato aside, as he was the best with words. Aside from Jet, of course. “So we’re pirates now,” Jet said, and he couldn’t help the grin that slipped through. “We need a name for our crew.”

Naato raised an eyebrow, leaning back against a chair. His eyes lingered on the looseness of Jet’s shirt- of course they were all thinner. But they all pretended not to notice how Jet favoured the Duke, tried to raise him as his own. He’d taken the father figure role to the next level. Whether he was aware of it or not.

“Oh? What?”

Jet thought, and walked back and forth across the room with a spring in his step- a real one. “I think-” he paced the room again; once, twice, thrice. Then a slow and cunning smirk slipped onto his face. “We should be the Freedom Fighters.”

-

And every night he sat in the crow’s nest above the world, and the wind tried to tell him that he was beautiful, that he was forgiven, and Jet pretended to believe it. Jet remembered the stories that his father had told him once upon a time, about pirates. He’d been captured with the stories at the time, he’d donned charcoal beards and fake broadswords, but the Real Jet, fifteen years old, had yet to grow a beard.

He ran his fingers over the skin of his jaw, and glanced away.

He knew that he had lost something that he could no longer remember. But Jet could feel it drifting away, his mother’s face was no longer clear, her voice was just imagination.

He’d watch as the sun rose over the ocean, warming his skin. He felt the hunger gnawing at his bones and pretended it was something better, like love. He frowned, as the sun was brighter and more golden these days, or at least it seemed that way.

“Jet? Jet!” He heard his name below, and he looked down to see Smellerbee, a smile on her face. She was wearing a too big t-shirt and she looked comfortable in it. “Come down!”

Jet felt the heat enveloping his body but this time it was kinder. He felt a smile warming his skin. “How come?”

“The sunset’s prettier down here!”

“Pretty as me?”

“More.”

Jet descended and Smellerbee took his hand. “Look at that!”

Jet was suddenly all too aware of how much taller he was, how much younger all these people were.  _I am Atlas and this is what I must carry. I am Sisyphus and this is my boulder._

“I’ve seen better,” he grinned.

“In your dreams!”

Jet remembered that he’d owned a camera once, or his family had. He’d owned a gun, too. A rifle.

He wished that he could capture his sister like this, he wished that he’d be able to hold the pieces of her growth in his hands and that they’d all grow like trees towards the sun.

Jet felt seasick, suddenly, or maybe it was sunstroke. “Maybe we should stop with birthdays,” he said to himself. “Maybe we should just do this- Do this like we would’ve done before calendars or phones or any of those things. We can just suddenly be older, all together.”

-

But 365 days after the Duke had joined their merry crew, Jet woke him up and placed a crown made of cardboard on his hair. “Today you’re the king of the Freedom Fighters!” Jet announced, and let the Duke clamber onto his shoulders. “Your wish is our command, oh king.”

Jet strode out of the room while the Duke told him which direction to go.

He stepped out, and they were greeted with a warm day. However, the dark clouds in the distance made him fight against a frown.

It was around midday when the storm struck. The thunder rocked the ship, and Jet and his crew were curled up in the cabin beneath a thin blanket and each other. The Duke was at the centre, the larger limbs of his siblings cloaking him with warmth.

“If we die,” Smellerbee said suddenly, and they all turned their gazes, “If we all die then I’m glad to die with you.”

The Duke frowned. “I don’t want to die on my birthday, though.”

“You won’t,” Jet sighed, shooting a glare in Smellerbee’s direction. “You’re going to live for a long, long time.”

The Duke snuggled into Jet’s side. “And then I’ll be Actual King?”

Jet made a sound of half agreement. “The Freedom Fighters don’t have kings. We’re more…presidential?”

The Duke sniffed. “Then I’ll be king of the whole outside world, instead.”

 _There isn’t one,_ Jet thought, _there’s just water then space._

“Nah, president’s better.”

Jet felt one of his siblings ruffle his hair and knew it was Smellerbee. He looked through the cuddle pile and met her gaze, her toothy grin. He stuck out his tongue. Despite the raging rain, everything was cosy and comfortable.

“Jet?” Jet looked back to the Duke. The seven- eight year old’s eyes were heavier now. He was on the verge of sleep.

“Mm?”

“Would I be a good president?”

Jet laughed quietly. “Yep, you would be the best president this world ever saw.”

-

The first time that Jet’s eyes lingered on Naato, he yanked himself out of it. The other boy was a year older than Jet, but he didn’t seem it. Of course, Jet had taken age upon himself, wrapped his fists around time’s antlers from the time he’d first said  _Let us all grow old together at the same time._

Jet had liked boys like that once. He’d liked girls like that, too. He had fallen in love with every non relative who showed kindness.

Jet had stopped caring for sticking around when his people mentioned land. The word made his heart throb and ache, and it made the dark thing that much stronger.

 

One particular night he had drifted to the edge of the ship, and the wood was sharp against his hands.

He heard the giveaway creak of wood behind him and he lifted his head so that the moonlight struck his face like an open palm. “I wonder what happened to the birds,” he whispered, fighting the hitch in his throat.

“All dead, I think.”

Jet turned to see Naato. The moonlight made Naato’s rich skin paler than it otherwise was. He didn’t look at Jet because he knew Jet didn’t want that. Slowly, Jet let his hand drift closer to Naato.

Naato’s fingers closed around Jet’s wrist. “I know you like me, Jet,” he said quietly.

Jet shut his eyes. “I’m not good at talking.”

“Not when it matters, no.”

Jet shook his head. “It matters. Every word that leaves my mouth can lead to downfall or creation. It was my words that made you guys stay, and it’s my words that makes others leave.”

Naato’s lips pressed to Jet’s cheek and the younger boy felt his heart fill with ice. He grit his teeth. “It shouldn’t have to matter,” Naato whispered.

“Can’t change anything about it.” He turned to Naato. “You know, I know that it’s not right, everything I do. I know that no matter what I do, it’s not something my parents would be proud of. And I do it anyway, thinking they would, and then after it’s done I realise I did it wrong.”

Naato looked at him now, and there was something desperate in the notion. “And?”

“Just this once, let me do something wrong knowing it’s wrong.” Jet leaned closer but was met with a palm resting against his face.

“Not if it’ll hurt you.”

“Everything hurts.”

“It doesn’t have to be me.” Naato winces, “I won’t let it, Jet.”

Jet felt pitifully young. He wanted to throw a tantrum. He was so used to fighting with his fists that the bitten-down nails had to grip the fabric of his shirt to keep it at bay. But he fought down the dark thing and said, “Okay, Naato. I’m okay with that.”

Don’t leave because of this, Jet found himself thinking, I know this sucks but don’t leave me here alone.

“Good,” Naato smiled. “Go to bed, Jet.”

Jet snorted. “I thought I was the leader.”

“You are, but you’re also human.”

Jet rolled his eyes but turned to do, just this once, what someone else asked of him. Wait, that was a half lie. Jet was always doing what people asked of him.

“And Jet?”

He paused.

“Eat more. The Duke will live without your portion.”

Jet nodded loosely, but it didn’t hold any energy.

-

Jet couldn’t stop thinking, it was even worse now that it was over. He couldn’t stop thinking about the veins throbbing with Naato’s blood, about the way Naato looked with his face emblazoned by moon. It wasn’t really romantic, it was more a form of fear.

And it hurt.

-

“My siblings, I’ve got something big planned. Something good. We’re going to be  _amazing_.”

-

When the empire ship dragged Naato down with it, Wang-Li too, Jet stood on the mast of his own ship and watched it sink. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would and he knew that made him a bad person but he couldn’t make himself hurt.

He couldn’t stop grinding his teeth.

His fingernails made his palms bleed.

He kept looking for Wang-Li, mostly, looking for the burst of water that could reveal oxygen, but she didn’t reappear.

Jet saw the smoke spiralling from the boiler room. It was a large cloud, and it tightened around something inside of him. He could taste it on his tongue.

He thought about the gentleness of moonlight and the way it stung. In his head he saw Naato sinking lower, and he thought about the blood stilling in his veins, his lips turning blue.

Jet could picture that night behind his eyelids, could sense Naato’s hand against his lip, could hear the way Naato’s voice was already starting to become cardboard, become a  _was_  and not an _is_.

-

Jet stood before his- his family, and felt that he shouldn’t be there. “My si- My  _Freedom Fighters_ ,” he said, his voice as deep as a grave. He felt their eyes on him, felt the nails tearing through his heart but he couldn’t say it, couldn’t let them close again.

“Today we lost two wonderful people.” He felt his ribs beneath his skin without having to use his hands. “Wang-Li a-and Naato, two people who made the world a better place for all of us.”

He didn’t look at any of them.

-

Jet was woken up a few nights afterwards by the Duke climbing into his bunk and snuggling into him. Jet was aware of the Duke sniffling, pressing his face into Jet’s chest.

“Jet?”

Jet wrapped his arms tighter around the little boy. “Mm?”

The Duke’s breathing was shaky. “Are you my dad?”

Jet felt his heart splutter to a halt. “Uh- not by blood- I mean, do you want me to be?”

“I want a dad. I’ve never had one before.”

Jet smiled. “Then you can have me.”

He could feel the Duke’s happiness increasing. “Does that make me your heir?”

Jet laughed. In the darkness everything was different, no one was dead and everyone was okay. The moonlight’s brilliant fist brought no memories through the curtain and nothing hurt as much as it did during the day. He nuzzled the Duke’s head of hair. “I guess so.”

Everything was silent, then. Until, “I miss Naato and Wang-Li.”

Jet tried to squeeze his eyelids closed again, but it made bright shapes burst against his vision. He tried to slink back into sleep but it wouldn’t come, the memories suddenly gaping open, blossoming like open wounds.

“They’re not coming back, Duke. They’re dead.”

The Duke made a sound almost like a whimper. “Are you going to die, Jet?”

Jet forced a laugh. “No, I’m not. I’m gonna live forever.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

-

A so-called saviour bumped into Jet’s ship but he knew they were no saviours. Three kids, his age but younger. The girl and her brother were wise, but they were still young. Younger than Jet felt he’d ever been.

Ironically, something inside the girl was older than any of the others. But Katara was also the best at pretending.

So Jet felt that he  _understood_  her. And she understood him. And so when she asked him to bed he let her and when she wanted him to touch her he let her and when she wanted to touch _him_  he let her do whatever the hell she wanted.

And her hands against his skin were cool.

And her hands made him feel good.

And making her feel good made him feel good. When Katara asked Jet said yes and he meant it.

That night, the group curled up around a small platter of food. Jet rested his hand against his stomach, focusing on the sensation of the emptiness inside of him.

The Duke was snuggled into Jet’s side when he asked, “Have you been on land?”

Jet felt himself tense as the twelve year old, Aang, lit up with a grin.

“Yeah! There’s a bit of it out there! In the mountains where I come from, where it’s high and the sea can’t reach, there’s land there. And there’s another place in the heart of a volcano where it’s hotter than anything you’ve ever felt.”

Jet felt pain as his nails bit into his palms. “That’s nice,” he said weakly.

“Hey, guess what I found on the way here!” Katara grinned, and she held out a camera like the one Jet had used to own. “There’s not very much film on it. I think you guys deserve it, though.”

 

 

Afterwards, against the backdrop of a smouldering military ruin, Katara renounced all of the good she had thought Jet had. She let her words pummel into him like fists, and Jet tried not to think about the fact that Sneers hadn’t come back yet.

“Katara. They’re  _evil_ , you know this better than anyone!” he fought back, and his voice was as tight as a pulled rope. “Think about your mother, Katara, my mother, anyone’s mother!” No one had one, anyway.

“I  _am,_ ” Katara grit out. “And I can’t believe  _you’re_  raising a 9 year old.”

Jet pushed desperation deep, deep down, and he could sense the thick darkness in his soul. “AND YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS I’M DOING IT WELL!” His voice was almost a scream, something feral, he could feel the animal in his eyes. He thought about the Duke, in the cabin with Pipsqueak and Smellerbee and Longshot, and how with them he was better.

“If that’s your definition of  _well_  then I’d rather be  _sick_.”

Jet turned a sob into a growl.

“You’re going to ruin him, Jet,” Katara sneered, and then Aang was there and then she was gone.

-

Smellerbee and Longshot found him by the escape ships, throwing a bag into the  front seat. Jet made eye contact with them and froze like a deer under a headlight. “Hey,” he whispered, glancing back at the boat. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay. Or at least-” He searched for the words that could make his leaving easier to bear, easier to swallow. “I’ve just got to go for a while. I’ll find my way back after I’m a better dad.”

Smellerbee took a step forward. “You’re really leaving? Really?”

Jet glanced up. “There’s land out there, and I can never touch it. I can’t tell you why, but I can’t. This way you guys can seek land without your villainous, wanted leader. If I follow you, I will be found and arrested. And- it hurts less if I’m the one leaving.”

Smellerbee sighed. “I can’t say anything to stop you, can I?”

Jet shook his head and turned around, then felt arms wrapping around his waist. He glanced down at her grip in confusion.

Smellerbee sniffled. “You may be our leader but you’re our brother as well. I don’t give a shit about land. My family’s as well as dead, you’re all I’ve got. If you leave, we’ve gotta come with you.”

Jet glanced at Longshot and they nodded. “Okay. But- I can’t see the Duke right now.”

Longshot sighed. “You have to say goodbye.”

Smellerbee nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s got to know you’re coming back for him.”

Jet stilled entirely, and then sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

-

“Why have you gotta go?” the Duke whined, wrapping his arms around Jet’s legs. Jet rested his hand on the Duke’s head, refusing to look at him, refusing to let it hurt more than it had to.

“I’m just taking a bit of a vacation from being president. I’ll be back real soon, I promise.” He quickly did a voice check and made sure it was okay, that it was happy and tender and loving and all the things a dad should be.

“You can stay here and I’ll be president for a while? You can sleep late! I promise not to wake you up.” Jet’s heart hurt with a raw type of pain that he hadn’t felt since the water started rising. “Jet? Did I do something wrong?”

Jet looked down at the Duke, and he grinned even though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve never done anything wrong.”

He sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around the Duke, letting the nine-year-old bury his face in Jet’s neck. Jet squeezed tighter as the Duke started to cry. “A-Are you sure? Is it because I stole some food off your plate?”

Jet shook his head. “I let you take it.”

“Is it because I spilled that mug of molasses?”

“We cleaned it up after and had a soap fight.  _That_  was  _fun_.” Jet pulled back and looked the Duke in the face. “I’m so, so sorry, Duke. I’ll be back in few months, anyway. And I’ll find food and money. You can go to the land.”

“What land?” the Duke wiped his eyes. “Land doesn’t exist.”

Jet shook his head. “It does, Duke, and it is so beautiful. The land is so beautiful and you should get to see it. But I’m allergic to dirt.”

The Duke giggled a little bit and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Are you sure you’ll come back?”

Jet nodded seriously. “One hundred percent.”  _And when I’m back I’ll be better. Better for you._  He ruffled the Duke’s hair. “Hey, do you think you’ll be able to look after the ship for me and make sure no one steals it?”

The Duke tipped his head. “Does that make me president?”

Jet wiped his eyes and laughed. “Yes, yes it does. You’re going to be president of the world. You’re gonna do a great job.” He stood up.

“Jet.” He looked back to the siblings he was taking with him. Smellerbee held her and Longshot’s bags in one hand. “I think it’s time to go.”

Jet nodded but turned back to the Duke and rested a hand on his head again. “Don’t let Pipsqueak get into too much trouble, okay?”

The Duke grinned. “Okay, Dad.”

He hugged Jet again and then Jet turned around, hurting and happy at the same time.

-

There was a city beneath the ocean. Beneath it. They made their way towards its location, stealing where they had to, Jet sleeping with anyone who wanted and who could help. Oh well, Jet would think, I’m tarnished enough as it is.

It was called Ba Sing Se, and it was protected by an enormous bowl, like a fish bowl. Jet and his siblings were to be lowered in a submarine with their boat, and enter a loading dock that could only fit one sub at a time.

But first they were put on a ship.

And that’s where Jet met Li.

-

The moment Jet saw Li, a feeling of knowledge spread through his bones, as if this had happened a million times before, as if there had been a million times that Li had turned, a million times that Li had  _glared_  at him, a million times that Jet had recognised him.

And neither Smellerbee nor Longshot understood why Jet dragged them towards that scar faced boy.

Of course there were hundreds of people they could’ve talked to, more people together than Jet had seen in four years or even his life, but he knew Li. But Li didn’t know him, or at least he didn’t say anything, because he looked at Jet like he was a nuisance- but Jet had always liked a challenge.

But it was Li who said _I’m in,_  it was Li whose hand slipped into Jet’s in the storage room even if it was Jet who closed the distance.

And even though Li refused to become a Freedom Fighter Jet knew they’d see each other again.

-

When Jet stepped into the teashop, Li knew who it was before he even turned. Jet could see it, the way Li’s lips were pursed as he turned, the slowness of it all.

“You want a job?” he asked and Jet nodded. “I’ll talk to my uncle, then.”

So Li tried as hard as he could to avoid Jet until the latter finally sucked it up and had enough.

Li was sidestepping Jet to go home when Jet’s hand closed around Li’s wrist. Li looked at him through his good eye and something inside it was afraid. Jet wondered if Li had a darkness too, and if that was how he’d known him.

“I’ve got to go home,” Li said, looking everywhere but Jet, but Jet’s hand squeezed tighter.

“I’m sorry, Li,” Jet whispered, and then let go of him. But now Li stood still, looking at Jet with something in his eyes that Jet knew well, knew like someone being let into a secret.

“W-why?”

Jet looked up, and smiled dryly. “I’m sorry that you kissed me. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’m sorry that I ruined things.”

Li looked on the verge of fear, his limbs turned to stone. “Do you regret it?”

Jet laughed quietly. “I don’t regret anything.”

Li frowned a little and stepped forward. “Really? You didn’t hate the way I- That was my first kiss. It wasn’t terrible?”

Jet shook his head, and he could feel Li’s gaze and it was like- it was like he suddenly knew that Li didn’t hate him after all. As if maybe it could be alright.

He felt the hand on the side of his face. And he felt the lips against his own. Light, with the pressure gentle as he’d always thought Li really was.

“Thank you,” Jet whispered, closing his eyes.

“I did that because I wanted to, not because it was a gift.”

“I know.”

Li took Jet’s hand and, of course, Jet followed.

-

Jet liked to watch Li while he slept. The night was always full of thick, thick noise and Jet could never stop thinking about the creak of the walls, those enormous walls that always seemed on the verge of breaking.

Jet didn’t know how to swim. He’d never learned.

But Li helped him forget. It was almost a comfort, being the one to wake Li up when the nightmares ripped through him, it was like being able to help himself but just for someone else.

Jet watched the twitch of Li’s muscles and immediately let his hand rest on Li’s shoulder. Li lashed out suddenly and Jet found himself colliding with the floor. He felt waves of pain rushing over his body and it felt good, so Jet just laid on the floor until Li looked over the side of the bed.

“Jet? Did I knock you off?”

Jet smiled and nodded.

“Oh, uh, fuck,” Li muttered, running his fingers through his hair, “I’m so so so-”

Jet smiled wider. “It’s okay, Li. I’m fine.” He stuck his arm out. “But if you’re really bothered you can help me up.”

A smile twitched on Li’s lips and Jet let himself be dragged back onto the bed.

Jet slumped, resting his head in the crook of Li’s shoulder. And then he let himself breathe, made it so everything inside him was completely gone for a moment. He let himself listen to Li breathing, in, out, in and out.

They had been like this for about two weeks.

“Are you  _sure_ it doesn’t bother you?”

Jet kissed the soft skin of Li’s neck and felt Li squirm. Jet tried not to fall off the bed again- there was no room for them to sit comfortably, even if they were straight as boards. “I’d be a hypocrite if it annoyed me.” Jet sat up, pushing a hand through his hair. “And even if my own brain was fine I don’t think I’d be annoyed.”

Li glanced at the huddle of clothes on the floor. “Is that a camera?”

Jet followed his gaze and shrugged. “Yeah. Practically run out of film, though. I’ll use it when it’s light.” He looked back up at Li’s face and paused, watching him with a softness settling in his chest.

Li met his gaze and frowned. “Is something wrong? Did I fuck something up?”

Jet smirked and tipped his head. “Only thing I’d fix about you is the lack of my kisses on your mouth,” he drawled.

His boyfriend-lover-thing rolled his eyes and pressed a chaste kiss to Jet’s lips. “Didn’t specify what type,” Li rasped.

Jet let his fingers slide up over Li’s arms and brush the back of Li’s neck. “I’m happy with whatever.” He grinned as Li kissed him again, this time slower, kinder. He closed his eyes and let himself feel Li against his hand; skin soft and pale and nothing like Jet’s.

“You’re the first person I’ve slept with who I actually wanted to,” Jet whispered.

Then Li fell silent, before he said, “You mentioned the Duke to your sister once. Who’s that?”

Jet wrapped an arm around Li’s shoulder and shrugged. “He’s my- he’s my kid.”

Li looked up at Jet. “You never told me you had a son. How old?”

Jet stayed quiet and revelled in the hurt for a couple of moments before he said. “Nine.”

“ _You had sex when you were-_ ” Jet’s finger brushed over Li’s lip.

“I didn’t have sex when I was seven,” Jet sighed, “I was fifteen when I lost my virginity.”

Li digested this information, before chiming, “You were my first.” He glanced away. “As you could probably tell.”

Jet shrugged again and tipped Li’s chin. “You were fine. As I said, you were the first person who I  _wanted_  to sleep with. And that’s pretty great.”

Then he kissed Li so Li wouldn’t have to say anything.

-

“Did your son look like you?” Li asked one night, as Jet’s hands scrubbed at dishes. The other boy stilled, and the dust seemed thicker in the air; it was new, this talking about yourself thing.

“No,” Jet said at last, scraping at some char at the bottom of one of the saucepans. “But he had brown hair. Darker, though.” He glanced up again. “Bit lighter than you? I think?”

Jet didn’t dare look at Li in that golden dust-filled light. The dust filled his lungs and made him feel like straw, like one of his father’s old scarecrows. Jet paused.  _His father._

“What was he like?”

Jet scrubbed harder, even though the pot was now clean. “Chatty, looked up to me. I can’t remember.”

He sighed and laid down on the floor.  Li smiled semi-fondly and sank down beside him, lifting Jet’s head onto his lap and running his hand over the coarse hair. “I’m sorry.”

Jet grunted, rolling the wheat grass with his tongue. “Nah, it doesn’t matter. Just got a headache, is all.”

Li leaned over and took Jet’s grass with his teeth. “What do you get out of this?” he tried to say around the grass.

Jet rolled his eyes. “It tastes good if you do it  _right_.” He sat up and pulled the grass from Li’s mouth, then turned it around and lifted the right end to Li’s lips. Li bit down on the grass, his lips brushing against Jet’s calloused fingers. Jet was suddenly all too aware of how soft Li really was. That was what Li did to him.

“I can’t taste it,” Li whispered, pressing his lips to Jet’s fingertips. His mouth was slightly damp beneath Jet’s skin, but dry at the same time. He couldn’t look away. And he got the sense Li knew that.

Slowly, Jet leaned forward and pressed his lips to Li’s. The other boy’s hand pressed into Jet’s back, gripping the fabric.

Jet felt Li smile. “Yeah. Now I can taste it,” Li sighed.

-

Part of the reason Jet liked Li was because he sort of knew how he  _worked_. Li’s emotions were an open book, a rarity in Jet’s world. One knew when Li was mad or angry or scared. But happiness was harder. Jet could see that too, though.

Jet knew that Li understood something in Jet, too. But on a different level, something that Jet hadn’t known he’d  _had_ until Li. Their knowledge of each other was about working from the inside out, not the other way round.

He was better at waking Li now, reverting to quiet mutterings of Li’s name in the thick night. And his lover did the same whenever Jet chanced upon sleep. They took shifts.

One night Jet was sweating from a dream about birds and rifles, and Li’s hand was warm against the heaving of Jet’s chest. “I’m a bad person,” Jet whispered, resting his forehead against Li’s.

Li sighed, wrapping an arm around Jet’s shoulders. “No you’re not.”

Jet shook his head. “No, Li, you don’t understand. I’m the worst person this world has ever had. You’d hate me if you knew.”

“How come?”

“I can’t say.”

Li’s hand pushed Jet’s hair away from his face. “Did you accidentally damage your father’s honour to the point that you needed a brand?”

Jet raised an eyebrow. “What’s that got to do with anything?” Then he closed his eyes. “But wherever in the world my father is, be it the spirit world or just…just deep in the ground…he does hate me now. He must.”

Li took Jet’s hand and Jet squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the rough skin of Li’s scar. “My brand,” Li whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need. I shouldn’t have spoken out, my father was right, I shouldn’t have spoken against-”

Jet tapped Li’s mouth with his finger. “That doesn’t make you a bad person, Li. That makes your father a bad person.” He made sure not to keep eye contact since that made Li uncomfortable, instead letting his eyes flit over Li’s face, exploring all the parts that he was growing to care for.

“I’m still working on learning that,” Li whispered. “But I have a lot to make up for.”

Jet smiled tenderly, reaching up and smoothing down Li’s hair. “We can work on it together.”

Li wasn’t sure what to do at first, but then he smiled and nodded.

-

Jet staggered into the apartment one day, sweat coating his brow as his hand slammed into the wall. Li strode over, collecting Jet in his arms. Jet was suddenly aware of how long his limbs were, too long for Li to contain. But that thought was a distant one.

“Jet,” Li whispered, holding Jet as he trembled. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Jet shook his head, gripping Li’s shirt. “I don’t- I don’t know- it’s so  _stupid_ ,” Jet ground his teeth. “Also I lost my grass.”

Li rested his chin on Jet’s head. “I don’t care if it’s stupid, I don’t like it when you hurt.” Jet closed his eyes.

“But like- it’s  _really_ stupid. I’ve been doing stupid things for a long time.”

Li cupped Jet’s face. “Am I included in that?”

Jet snorted and shook his head. “No. You’re the smartest thing I’ve done. Plus, I could never regret you.” He was silent, invisible words forming in his mouth. Then, “I saw a bird. A long way up, I saw one.”

Li smiled but didn’t laugh. He didn’t stop running his fingers through Jet’s hair and Jet focused on that, the pressure of Li’s fingers on his scalp, fighting off the bad thoughts. “Want to, uh, talk about it?”

Jet nodded but didn’t speak. “There’s land out there, Li,” he whispered, “Birds always fly towards land. My family, I- I didn’t tell them there was any, and then I did, and then I left so that they could see it.”

“I know.” Li’s fingers trailed over Jet’s face, tracing his lips, pushing the hair back from his eyes. “I know there’s land.”

“So you could  _leave_  at-” Li cut Jet off with a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Jet relaxed into Li’s kiss, melting into him. Li smiled again and pulled away.

“I actually can’t go back, though. I can’t leave.”

Jet winced and frowned. “Wait. So does that mean you just- are you just staying because-staying with  _me_ -”

“Because I want to,” Li interrupted. He pulled Jet closer, leaning his forehead against Jet’s temple. “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here. I stay because you’re good, and you know me and you-”

“I love you,” Jet blurted, and Li’s sentence trailed off. Jet didn’t dare look at him. “I-I love you, Li.”

“Oh,” Li whispered.

Jet squeezed his eyes shut and wished for the ground to swallow him whole. “I’m sor- you don’t have to say it back. You can feel what you want to feel.” The panic in his chest was gone, but now there was a blinding pain that he couldn’t put a name to.

“No, Jet. It’s not that I- It’s not that I don’t. I just don’t  _know_ , Jet.”

Jet nodded, but the pain wasn’t gone. It started to ebb, but there was still something bruised in his heart. “You deserve the time to figure it out, Li.”

-

Jet jostled the coins in his pocket as he headed to the market. The sun was nowhere anymore, but it was also everywhere. Jet wondered how the people around him didn’t feel claustrophobic- he had trained himself to stare at the ground, not to dare look up. When he looked up the blue was dazzling and the sun was blinding; it never stopped burning, never stopped pressing in.

It was early morning, and Jet was alone. The sun was starting to send its message to the world, that it was time to wake up. But Jet didn’t listen to it, because he never slept anyway.

He kept himself company by thinking about Li- or Zuko. Li had told him that his real name was Zuko, but that he didn’t mind what he was called as long as it was a boy’s name. Sometimes he changed who he wanted to be on a certain day.

Jet smiled to himself as he pictured Li. Li would be asleep, now. Maybe he could sneak into Li’s room and surprise him with something from the store? Or just do something nice?

There was a gust of noise at Jet’s ear and he found himself turning, happiness replaced by fatalistic urgency to protect himself. And he thought of Li again, of the gentle noises of sleep that he made. He slept better when Jet was there.

Suddenly Jet longed to comfort.

There was no attacker, just a slip of dark disappearing into an alleyway. Against his better judgement, Jet knew he had to follow. With fists balled he followed the flutter and found himself looking at a crow.

Jet froze, panic starting to lace his lungs. “What-what do you want?” he choked, stepping back. His fists bit into themselves, and he stepped backwards into a defensive stance. But the bird just stood there, looking up at him through eyes that looked like yellow-black marbles sewn into its skull.

“You can’t trick me, bird!” he growled, then checked his tone. “I know you’re a spirit! Do you really- do you really expect me to think that you’re just some normal  _bird_? If you were, then you’d be on land. If you’re real then  _why would you be here_?.”

The bird stared at him, then burst into flight. But Jet knew that he couldn’t let the crow go. He found a windowsill and started to climb, his weak muscles faltering beneath his weight. He felt his lack of upper body strength like a blade running through his arms.

He got onto the roof and for a moment rested on his hands and knees, his lungs aching and burning, his head feeling like it was full of cloud. He looked ahead and stopped dead as he saw the crow on the other roof, taunting him with its marble eyes. It opened its mouth and let out a single caw. Jet got to his feet. He had to get across.

“Okay,” he panted, “If my death will make this fucking flood end then so be it.”

Jet started to run.

-

The space between a roof and a roof is a place where heroes jump and villains fall. Jet had always been the villain in his own book.

He thought about rain. Rain and sun and cloud and bitterness and longing and fire and all the things that no longer existed in the world. He thought about mothers and fathers and pets hanging in the long heat of day as the sun beat across their necks, as ice chilled in their drinks and they waited for the even longer cold of night.

He thought about the Duke. His son who had chosen him, above even the boy’s own cousin. The boy who would one day be a president or maybe just happy. The boy who Jet suddenly wanted to see more than ever.

He thought about Li. Li and the roughness he used to survive, and how when he loved he became gentle and his hands became soft and warmer than the sunrise that Jet had once welcomed upon his ship’s perch. How he was like the sun when it split between winter clouds- warm and gentle and unstable as a kiss.

_Li._

-

The roof skidded under his heel, or maybe it was the heel that skidded, but either way Jet was painfully aware of the space between standing and falling. The time it took to collide with the flat of the roof took forever, and in that time Jet lost his breath.

By the time Jet’s back hit the concrete roof there was no air left. When his head hit the roof there was no sight left, either.

-

Jet woke in the same place he’d been knocked unconscious. Something was missing in the hollow of his chest, some sense of  _him_ ness. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he let his hand slide beneath his shirt and rest over the place his heart was supposed to be. He could hear it, thundering away inside his skull, but it was uncomfortable.

It was like it had been woken up.

Jet tried to open his eyes and was met with blinding white. But it wasn’t death, it was just the sea and the sky and the sun above him. It pressed its way into his skull and burned against his face in a way he’d never felt before.

But then it stopped. And Jet just lay there.

He stared up at the sheen of sunlight on the bowl that kept them all safe, and he felt it pressing, the indestructible material pressing inward against that thunderous ocean. He could hear it if he tried, but he didn’t try.

A shark passed overhead, a hundred feet above.

A boat’s hull followed it. Jet thought about the people who must be on board.

With a jolt Jet realised he was crying. He hadn’t felt it, hadn’t even known he had the  _ability_. He never cried anymore. But here he was, and he felt the wetness on his cheeks, sliding over his skin.

He wanted to go home. And now he could.

Jet wanted to sit up but he couldn’t. The darkness was thinner, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t crushing him. So he just stared at the water, watching as it became bluer and bluer as the sun rose.

Li would be wanting him back.

Jet sat up, and looked behind him. The bird was still there, had been there the whole time.

“Okay,” Jet breathed. “I know what to do now.”

-

“When are you leaving?”

Jet looked up to where Li was leaning against the door, not daring to look at him. Jet hadn’t said anything to him, how could he-

“I heard your siblings talking about it. Why didn’t you tell me?” Li looked up, and he was shockingly, devastatingly vulnerable. Jet felt guilt swelling in his throat.

“Li, I-” He walked over to Li and let his hand go to Li’s face. “I can’t stay here.”

“ _Why_ \- Why not?” Li whispered, balling his fists against the wall. Jet could see him trembling. “Why can’t- Why can’t you stay  _here_ , and-and we could grow  _old_  together and why can’t we just be happy like in all the love stories we’ve ever been told. Why can’t we be purely happy for  _once_?”

Jet leaned his forehead against Li. “We’re already old, Liko. And- and we’ll be happy. We  _can_  have that.” He straightened his back. “I can’t stay, Li. I have things that- that I need to do.”

“Like what?”

Jet smiled wryly. “The flood is ending. I need to help it.” He glanced upwards. “Besides, I can’t- I can’t live inside walls like these. Not the so-called ‘unbreakable’ glass that I can hear at every moment, that I hear creaking under the pressure. It’s choking me, and I can’t- I can’t die here, Zuko.”

Li nodded. “You’ve already used three of my names, Jet,” he smiled wryly, trying to look at Jet. “Today I’m Li. I- I think I’m going to be Li for a few weeks at least.”

Jet nodded. “Okay.” Then Li slipped his hand to the back of Jet’s neck, running his fingers over the smooth skin. Then he lowered Jet’s mouth to his.

It wasn’t what Jet was used to- It was soft, yes, but it was also like  _forgiveness_. Li’s mouth was cooler than usual, and his hands didn’t stop touching Jet’s face, didn’t stop tracing his fingers over his eyes, nose, ears. Jet found the desire to cry was strong in him again. Even though Li had forgiven him, Jet kept apologising, using words he’d never owned.

Jet felt a thumb swipe beneath his eyelash and he let himself pull away.

“What are you going to do after this?” Li asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jet sighed, and smiled sadly, taking Li’s hand in his own. “I’m going to find my son. Then I’m going to go home.” He glanced upward again. “The flood is ending, Li. For real.”

Li smiled. “Of course you’d know that.”

A chuckle rippled through Jet’s body. “Trust me.”

“I do.”

Jet ran his thumb along the edge of Li’s scar. “We’re going to see each other again, don’t worry.”

“I know.”

Li pressed a kiss to the pulse on Jet’s wrist.

Jet smiled wider. “I love you.”

Li didn’t respond as Jet walked back to the bed and picked up a small bag of everything he needed. They could hear Smellerbee talking outside. There were other voices too- Jet wondered at how people could be standing outside of a building and have no idea of what was going on inside, be it love or heartbreak or both.

As Jet started to leave, he pushed a ball of paper into Li’s hand.

Li unravelled the paper and looked at a picture. Jet was at the centre, and he was surrounded by five others, two of whom he knew to be Smellerbee and Longshot. A small boy was sitting on Jet’s shoulders- Jet’s son.

Li looked up to the door, still open.

-

Land was untrustworthy beneath Jet’s feet. He knew the Duke was here. He had to see him, one last time. He had to go home.

Jet made his way ahead of his siblings, his legs trembling more with each step. There was a house up there. That was it. This had to be it.

Jet had actually been fit once, a long time ago. When he was younger and sunlight loved him and he held fate between his scrawny twelve year old hands. 

He made his way up to the door and paused. He closed his eyes and breathed, feeling the wood beneath his palm. He longed for Li, and the longing made him ache. But he needed this.

He glanced at Longshot and they nodded.

Jet pulled his hand back and knocked three times against the door.

The door was opened by a small boy, taller than he had been before but still short for his age, with red paint smeared across his cheeks.

“Jet is home!” he shouted, tackle-hugging Jet’s legs.

Jet rested his hand on the Duke’s head and smiled.  _Almost there_.

-

It had been a couple of weeks since Jet had arrived, and it was time for him to make his leave. This time he knew he couldn’t face the Duke. The Duke had a life here- if he wanted to be a president of the world he wasn’t going to find it with Jet. And this time Jet couldn’t promise his return.

He hadn’t even unpacked in the first place.

Jet put some bread and cheese into a handkerchief and knotted it around a stick, like he’d seen in illustrations when he was younger.

“Jet?”

He turned around and saw the Duke standing in his bedclothes. His hair was an explosion around his face, and the red had been rinsed off. Now he just looked like a kid.

“What are you doing?”

Jet couldn’t reply. He stared at his feet, silent.

“Why are you leaving?”

Jet sat down and gestured to the space beside him. The Duke sat and leaned into Jet’s hug. “Let me tell you a story,” Jet whispered. “Once upon a time there was a young boy with a mom and a dad and maybe even a brother. They owned a farm just like everyone else on the island of Guam Ji. And that boy was just like any other boy, just like you. But a few years older than you.

Once, he had a birthday, and his dad asked him to go out and shoot some birds for a birthday pie. The boy was very good at shooting things. He was a ‘one shot wonder’, or so they said. So he went out and he saw some feathers poking out from a tree and he shot at it. It turned out to be a crow. Or it looked like a crow.

But it was actually a spirit. And a spirit of the ocean. And when he shot it, its ghost put a curse on the boy. It told him that the water would rise, and that whatever land he touched would be cursed too.

And then it started to rain. When the boy got home, all of his family were dead, even the family dog.

And then it didn’t stop raining. So the boy got on a ship, a big one. But he didn’t need to steer it very much after a while because by then the rain had covered the rooftops.

At first he was alone. But then he wasn’t. First two came, then one, and then four more. He was happy during the day, but he was also sad a lot of the time because he knew the water was all his fault, and that his friends’ sadness was all his fault too. They became siblings and he ignored his feelings.

Then he found out there was land out there, and he made his friends go there while he stayed behind. He made other friends. But then he knew that he had to find his old friends.

And now he’s got to go home. To help.”

The Duke was frowning, sniffling into Jet’s shirt. “Can I go with you? I don’t want you to leave again. You’re my  _dad_.”

Jet buried his face in the Duke’s hair. “You can’t be a president of the world on a farm, Duke.”

The Duke sniffled. “But- I don’t  _want_  to be a president. Too much responsibility.”

To his surprise, Jet found himself laughing a little bit. “Really?”

“I just wanna be a kid.”

_A kid._

Jet could manage  _that_.

Jet pulled back. “But what would the others say?”

The Duke perked up immediately “I learned how to write a little bit! I can write that we’re safe!”

Jet smiled. “Fine. Okay.”

The Duke pulled away and scribbled some writing on a piece of paper. “An old lady has been teaching me!”

Jet ruffled his hair. “So are you really ready to go home? To my- _our_  true home?”

“One we’ll never leave?”

Jet nodded. “Yeah. It’s a place where you and me can stay. Forever.”

-

They were on the road by midday, and the sun was golden in front of them. Jet gripped the Duke’s hand tightly in his own, and they strode down towards the shore. It was summer, Jet realised.

Jet reached into the bag that beat against his leg and touched the sheet of paper that contained a photo of Li that he’d taken in the early days of their relationship. In it, Li’s eyes were unclouded, and his smile was in the middle of unfurling, his scar crinkling at the edges. He had laughed after Jet had taken it.

But Jet would see him again. He’d been right about these things before, and he’d be right again. It could take a year or it could take fifty. But Jet didn’t mind. He was walking towards another life, and he had his son with him.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Jet whispered.

-

Pipsqueak ran out of the bedroom in a panic. Smellerbee watched him and felt pity for the poor soul. It must be a shock.

“Jet’s not in his bedroom, nor is the Duke. If they’d gone off together, they’d be back by now, right?”

Smellerbee held out the piece of paper, a large piece with writing she would never be able to read. Even before, when she’d had schooling, she’d never grasped the hang of it.

They took it to the woman, named Ursa, who had been teaching the Duke how to write. She squinted at it, and a soft smile grew on her lips. “It says ‘We’re safe. We’re going home.’”

Pipsqueak frowned. “Will they come back?”

Smellerbee glanced at Longshot. “Don’t worry, Squeak. Jet always comes back.”

The End


	2. Epilogue

 

 

There was a lot of work to be done. As the others came back, Jet had to help them with collecting what bodies were left and putting them into a mass grave a few kilometres out of the city. Jet didn’t talk about it when he worked, in fact he didn’t talk at all. He became known as a quiet, hard-working man who only spoke when he didn’t like something. He was still hot-tempered. Many a bigot had fallen under his balled fist. But he was wiser now- he picked the battles he could win. (But that meant all of them.)

 

One day Jet was walking to pick the Duke up from school when he found a baby crow, a last survivor from a demolished nest. With a gentle hand, he picked it up in all its strange, distorted cuteness, and took it home.

 

The next summer came and the crow was gone, having since discovered flight. But that spring, when a murder of crows set up camp outside Jet’s front door, he’d watch them for hours. And he knew that one of them was his, but that he was now theirs, too. Had been theirs for a while.

Jet didn’t celebrate his birthday anymore. In fact, he didn’t like birthdays in general. As time passed, the few men of the village gave up on inviting him down to the pub for birthday beers. But still, he always sent a poorly written note of apology for his absence.

 

And the nights grew longer and then shrank back, and the cycle repeated. Summer became Autumn, Autumn became Winter, and Winter became Spring. And Jet found some harmony in the thought of it, always continuing. The world had started again.

 

Jet never slept with anyone he didn’t want to, anymore. That meant he slept with no one. Jet could wait- would wait. Even if the neighbourhood saw it as a shame to lose such a handsome set of genetics.

 

The Duke was twelve years old.

 

And one Spring afternoon Jet woke to curious voices outside his bedroom. He got up and threw on a shirt. He paused by the mirror. There was a family photo that he’d found stuck to the mirror, the bare memory of what he used to be, taken on his eleventh birthday. His eyes followed the lines of his family, his mother with her fierce pride and love, his big brother looking like he was ready to- looking like he _would_ face the world. Jet’s father, looking like he was _glad_ to be there, a sense of pride on his barely wrinkled face.

 

And in the middle of them, Jet, his face faded by time. His eyes were wide with that eleven-year-old spark, and he held a cap gun in his left hand. Shadows of mud clung to the lines of his face, but he was happy and young.

 

Jet glanced at his true face, his mirror face. He was so much older now. He had filled out more, now that he had livestock to eat. His eyes were hollower, now that life was catching up to him. Part of him almost expected to gain crow’s feet, to find grey hairs waiting for him on his pillow. But he was only nineteen.

 

He never did grow that beard.

 

He made his way down the hallway. “Duke? You’re back from school?”

 

He heard a mutter and then the Duke was before him. “Yeah! There’s a man who wants to see you, Jet Dad.”

 

Jet felt his heart beat faster, but he let it go. There was a man that was supposed to be coming to buy some eggs, anyway. “You got the eggs?”

 

The Duke nodded, eager to please.

 

Jet walked into the living room and stopped. The man was sitting in a chair, squinting at a piece of paper. _A man._ But Jet knew that he was really a boy, even if he looked like a man. Everyone looked older than they were. Except for the Duke, possibly.

 

The visitor didn’t have to show his face for Jet to know who he was. But then he did and- _oh._ His expression was unguarded, so much softer than when they’d first met. He seemed comfortable in his own skin.

 

The man stood. Jet glanced at the Duke and the Duke nodded before leaving.

 

It came as a breath more than a word. _“Li._ ”

 

The smile was gentle and kind and all the things that Jet was still in love with after so many years. “Jet.”

 

Jet didn’t dare cross the room. He wanted to rest his hand against Li’s scar, he wanted to discover all the new parts of his body Jet hadn’t met yet. He wanted to uncover the lost places where he’d left his heart for all these years. The kisses in Li’s collarbone, pressing sharply against his skin in the form of bruises. The kisses in the spaces between ribs, where Li’s heart had once fluttered beneath Jet’s touch, filling the air with something that Jet hadn’t noticed at the time, but whose absence now made the air tremble.

 

Jet felt a lump growing in his throat, and he smiled.

 

Li’s smile grew, and he took a step. He took a deep breath, the smile on his lips hesitant but still growing. And then, “I love you too.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
